


the sugarman

by orphan_account



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Anxieties of Motherhood, Family Angst, and the dad says he's a terrible father, and the dad says the daughter can't be a single lady, and the daughter starts bawling, that's basically penelope, this fic the equivalent of that one video, where the kids are singing beyonce in the car, whilst the other children glare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 12:59:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15143576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Based off 2X07Clifford is expecting a guest, and Penelope could not be more terrified. She swallows her fear, but ends up regurgitating it in the form of folklore to her children.Also, Clifford is garbage but we been knew.





	the sugarman

**Author's Note:**

> Based off 2x07. Penelope is just trying her best with the situation she is trapped in. Also, she is around the age of 28/29 years old when this takes place.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Cheryl wriggles away from Penelope as she attempts to wipe off the cookie crumbs stuck to her face.

“Cheryl, please hold still,” Penelope asks the toddler.

She obliges for exactly three and a half seconds before resuming her task to escape the table. Penelope gives up.

“Fine,” Penelope says before turning to Jason.

He finished his plate, and sits waiting for to be excused from the table. He offers his mother an obedient smile. She sighs with some relief. He was far less messy. 

“You are both excused,” Clifford states from across the table.

With that, the twins slip out of their seats and run off to play. Penelope looks across the table, and Clifford gives her a knowing nod. He asks Meredith to clear the table. Penelope rises, and exits. She begins to make her way to the greenhouse when Clifford stops her.

“Penelope.”

She straightens out her shoulders as she turns to him.

“I am expecting a guest to arrive at two o’clock,” He says.

She nods, uncertain of what he wants her to say.

“He’s a business associate.”

“So, no one the children have not been around before. I can have them ready by then, Clifford. They adore Mr. Tate—“

“Not Mr. Tate,” Clifford lowers his voice, and place a hand on Penelope’s arm, directing her closer to the wall, “This individual will be representing… the other goods of the Blossom Maple Farms.”

Penelope’s face suddenly burns bright red. Gravity accelerates within her chest.

“No,” Penelope states.

“Penelope, it is a courtesy we owe him,” Clifford replies.

“No. No, we spoke about this. We agreed the children would not be exposed to this. You promised me that meetings for… that side of the business would not take place in the house—“

“It would eventually come to this, Penelope. We must show that we trust him—“

Her breath hitches hotly in her throat before she cuts him off.

“But I do not trust him. I do not want the children around this, please.”

Her face is flushed and her brows are knit together in desperation. He stares into her eyes, not wanting to push things too fast. Surely, there would be plenty of time to groom Jason for the business dealings. They would have plenty of time; The children just saw their fourth birthday.

“Do you trust me?” Clifford asks.

“Of course.”

“The meeting will take place here, but you may take the children upstairs. I would not want for him to ask why they are off the estate, it would… convey the wrong message,” He says with a low voice.

Penelope blinks as she chokes down her thoughts: _Everything about inviting a fiend into our home would convey the wrong message, Clifford_.

Every part of Penelope screams to take the kids to town, buy them milkshakes and wait until it is safe. Safety. Safety was what her marriage to Clifford was supposed to guarantee. She never believed upholding the Blossom name would involve… such scheming. Such darkness. Though it’s been three and a half years since he first told her the truth about the family business, she still has not come to terms with the truth she was trapped in. The truth her children were trapped in. She has yet to develop a plan to protect Jason and Cheryl from this. Who would she be without Clifford? He offered her the world in exchange for his heirs. But too late she realized Clifford Blossom’s world was far darker and smaller than any person should ever be expected to bear. The children needed their father, despite his faults. He loved them enough to provide. He loved her, didn’t he? He loved them enough. He would never push the children too far, or put them in harm’s way. He kept them safe.

“Fine, but I am staying upstairs with them.”

“At least have the decency to greet him.”

Better her than Jason and Cheryl.

“Ok.”

She doesn’t realize just how tightly he is holding her until he releases her.

“It would be best if I cleaned myself up now,” Penelope replied with a voice that would never show how empty she felt.

“Yes. I will see you in half an hour.”

She counts her steps as she walks away. One, two, three… She is grateful for this life. To have two, beautiful, healthy children. A loving husband. This is all she ever needed. Penelope stands in front of the mirror, and reapplies a coat of mascara and lipstick. She wants to make a good impression on this new business associate. And just maybe, she would emanate enough protective energy to establish the limits, to establish boundaries. This would be the third associate in her time being married to Clifford. The turnover rate of this side of the business made it all the more frightful. Though she had never met one before, she vividly recalls the night the truth surfaced.

 “Mommy!” A child’s shriek forces Penelope to detach her gaze from the mirror.

She follows the noise of her child to the Summer parlor, where Cheryl’s leg is caught between a couch and side table. Her back is almost flat against the cushions.

“Oh, God. Cheryl!” Penelope rushes over.

She leans down and Cheryl wraps her arms around her shoulders. Penelope pushes the side table until it budges. The girl’s leg frees, and her shoe hits the floor with a thud.

“Are you okay, honey?” She lightly grasps the toddler’s limb, checking for swelling.

“Yes. I… I’m ok… It’s just…” Cheryl sighs.

“What?”

“JJ was supposed to be watching me flip from here,” her hand smacks the couch arm, “to here,” then the cushion.

“You’re not supposed to be doing any flips in the manor, Cheryl,” Penelope scolds as she replaces Cheryl’s shoe back on her.

Cheryl sighs again and rubs her eyes.

“Where is your brother?”

“I think… um, I think Daddy wanted to talk to him.”

“Are you sure?”

“JJ always stays with me unless Daddy or you or Meredith needs to talk to him. And Meredith didn’t call for him.”

“Ok, well. I need you to go upstairs in a little bit. We are going to be up there while Daddy meets with some of his associates.”

Penelope reads her baby girl’s face with silent prayers that no tantrum will follow.

“Okie-dokie!” Cheryl replies before hopping off the couch.

“Cheryl!” Penelope calls.

The toddler spins around, almost losing her footing.

“Yes, Mommy?”

“Find Meredith, and tell her I said you could have another cookie.”

“She won’t believe me if I tell her that, Mommy,” Cheryl says as if it’s the most obvious thing.

“Right,” Penelope sighs.

She follows behind her daughter, who skips to the kitchen. Meredith is preparing a tea tray for the guest. Meredith knows they are going to take to Clifford’s Scotch collection, but this is done as a formality.

“Meredith! Mommy said I can have another cookie!” Cheryl proclaims.

“Cheryl! How do we ask nicely?” Penelope chides.

“Right. Meredith, may I please have a cookie?”

“Of course, Miss Blossom,” Meredith replies as she opens the cupboard and reaches to the second highest shelf for the porcelain jar.

Penelope fixes herself a glass of water. It is cool against the warmth of her hand. The toddler bounces up and down on her toes.

“Thanks, Meredith!” Cheryl says as she skips off.

“Cheryl, please be upstairs in five minutes!” Penelope calls out, knowing she would have to fetch her anyway.

“I don’t know how to tell time!” Cheryl shouts back from down the hall.

“Shall I bring a cookie to little Mr. Blossom as well?”

“That will not be necessary, I can do that,” Penelope replies.

She picks up the treat with a paper napkin, and listens around the manor for Clifford and Jason. She hears Jason’s laughter, sweeter than maple syrup, echoing through the hallway. Penelope follows the sound to the main entry. Clifford sits on the staircase; their son stands in front of him. Jason listens intently to his father.

“… Once the field was clear, I crossed it, and claimed my trophy,” Clifford’s is voice far too animated to be talking football.

“And… and- it’s the one hanging in your study now?” Jason asks

“I have many in my study, son.”

“The wolf one.”

“The wolf one,” Clifford affirms.

They notice Penelope’s presence simultaneously.

“Mommy, Daddy was just telling me about the wolf trophy in his study!” Jason says with awe.

“I’ve heard that one _many times_ before,” Penelope says with a smile.

Penelope extends her hand to her son, and he accepts the cookie gratefully.

“Thank you, Mommy.”

“You are welcome, my sweet boy,” she looks to Clifford, “Is Daddy almost ready for his guest?”

“He will be here soon,” Clifford replies, looking at Penelope with something that Jason was far too young to notice.

“Jason, why don’t you find Cheryl, and go on upstairs? I will be there momentarily,” Penelope says.

“Yes, Mommy.”

He runs along as asked. The atmosphere shifts to something colder. Penelope’s smile falls, and she rings her hands.

“You need not worry over this, dear,” He says as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Seriously, Clifford?”

Penelope’s jaw twitches in frustration. Clifford is expressionless. Little footsteps echo through the hallway.

“JJ, hurry up!”

“Wait, Cheryl!”

“Let’s _go_!”

The children do not seem to notice the battle between parents as they race upstairs. It grows quiet once more.

“How could you invite him into our home?”

“This business built this home. It pays for every meal the children eat, every jewel on your neck, and every gown you wear.”

Penelope cannot bring herself to say that such risk is not worth it.

 “Excuse me, Mr. Blossom’s guest has arrived,” Meredith announces as she approaches the front door.

Penelope turns with a smile. She smooths out the invisible wrinkles on her dress. Clifford stands, using the railing to pull himself up. He steps in front of Penelope as they await. Penelope feels her chest lurch with great force. Her train of thought seems to slow and suspend in midair as a shadow materializes behind frosted glass. Clifford’s voice sounds muffled as he utters the words _“This is my wife_.” She thinks the hairs on the back of her neck stand as something shakes her hand. Somehow, coherent words string together and escape her mouth. She nods no more than twice in the seconds she stands there. She can see everything and nothing at once; The dust floating about the manor is as a passive as she, there is the expectant look behind the eyes of the man she supposedly married, and the fibers of the greeting mat shifting with each step. The double helix of prosperity and danger was always in the DNA of this life.

The next thing Penelope knows, she is sitting upstairs with Jason next to her. Toys are strewn across the floor. Cheryl is digging through a wooden toy chest stuffed with custom-tailored costumes. She wants to be a ring master. Jason yawns and lies down, his head rests on his mother’s leg. She looks down, and places a hand delicately along his cheek.

“Mommy!” Cheryl shouts.

“Yes, dear?”

“I left my tambourine downstairs,” Cheryl says.

“Ring masters don’t need tambourines,” Jason murmurs.

“Yeah-huh!” Cheryl looks beyond offended.

“No, they don’t!”

“Do to!”

Jason sits up, slightly wobbly.

“Not-uh!”

“Well, maybe lame ring masters with no talent. But this ring master needs a tambourine,” Cheryl pouts.

“Daddy has company downstairs, Cheryl. It would be far too noisy,” Penelope states.

Cheryl lets out a huff, and stomps her foot. She yanks the cherry red and golden striped cape from her shoulders. It falls to the floor. Jason falls back with his head on Penelope’s leg.

“I think you both need to take a nap,” Penelope says softly.

“ _But, I’m not tired_ ” they reply in unison.

Penelope sighs.

“Then, why don’t I tell you a story?”

“Yeah! I want to do that,” Cheryl responds.

Her eyes are a mixture of exhaustion and anticipation. She loves her mother’s stories. Penelope looks down to Jason, and he looks back up at her with soft eyes. She waits for him to respond.

“Ok,” he says.

“Excellent. Will you both please pick up toys first though?”

Cheryl speeds around the room, picking up everything she threw around since the moment she made it upstairs. Jason followed suit at a much more reserved pace. Penelope couldn’t help but feel warmth as they set the rocking horse they knocked over upright - together. Once the room is in an “acceptable” condition, they settle on Cheryl’s bed, which is a ridiculously spacious Queen size mattress for a toddler. Usually, they would not be allowed to nap in the same room, let alone the same bed, because they just end up talking to each other. But Penelope decides this is an exception. It makes for a comfortable snuggle, anyway. Cheryl calls the middle because it is her room. Jason grumbles about not having his teddy bear and flops down next to her. Penelope settles on the other side of Cheryl. Knowing their mother need not any book to tell a great story, they wait in quiet anticipation. Penelope is positioned so she is facing them both with a pillow underneath her arm.

“Are you going to do the voices, Mommy?” Cheryl asks.

“Of course. Are we all comfortable?”

“Yes!” Cheryl replies.

“Yes,” Jason quietly follows.

 “Ok… so… Once upon a time, on a miserably grey day such as this… a little boy and a little girl were playing about the grand estate they lived on,” Penelope begins.

She feels Cheryl nod against her chest.

“Their father was an esteemed Merchant, who always had exciting business buzzing about—“

“And their mother?” Jason interjects.

“Shh!” Cheryl hisses.

Penelope smirks, “Their mother spent her days tending to the big lush greenhouse on their estate. So, while the children played, the mother nurtured her herbs and flowers, and the father conducted his work on their property. His work…. Included trying out new wares before selling them to the townspeople. You see, he was very much trusted and beloved by all the townspeople. They knew he would only sell the best of the best wares to them—“

“Like Daddy?” Jason asks.

“Yes, like Daddy you nincompoop,” Cheryl murmurs.

“Cheryl, do not call your brother, or anyone names like that,” Penelope says.

“Then what am I supposed to call them?”

Penelope sighs.

“Sorry, I interrupted the story,” Jason says.

Cheryl nuzzles further into Penelope.

“Their father, the esteemed Merchant, was good at his job. He did all he could to make the townspeople happy. If the townspeople were happy, that meant his family was happy too, because the Merchant provided the best wares, and it would earn enough money to take care of his family. Oh, how the Merchant’s business boomed. He was so happy that his children went to bed with full, warm bellies. He was so happy that his wife could wear the prettiest of jewels and gowns… He was happy he could bring new wares to his people every week. But the catch when it came down to providing good wares week-after-week, day-after-day, is that the expectations of buyers rise, the people will demand more and more and more.

The Merchant found that he could not keep up. The townspeople noticed, and began to grow impatient. As he lost buyers, he found that he could not take care of his family. And so, he sought a solution. He tried selling perfumes, but the townspeople were not happy because everyone used too much of it, and it made the entire town stink—“

“Ewww,” The twins say in unison.

“He tried selling exotic birds, and the townspeople found that the birds were far too loud and too colorful for their liking—“

“Can we get a parrot?” Cheryl asks.

“Ooh! That would look so… so cool with our pirate costumes!” Jason adds.

“No, we are not buying you a parrot. Let Mommy tell the story… The Merchant did not know what to do. And his family grew hungry, and so he ventured out to the land to find something new to provide to the people. He crossed rivers, and traveled down far winding roads, until he found himself in the deepest, darkest woods. Now, he heard rumors about these woods – how they contained beings of all origins, with all sorts of intents and schemes. But he needed to brave. He had townspeople to please and more importantly, a family to take care of. The Merchant knew that there just had to be an opportunity, a chance to find what he needed in those woods. And so, he walked further, and further. Until he was lost.”

The twins gasp and look to their mother in perfect sync.

“And when he realized he was lost, he began to cry. Oh, how he missed his family. How he couldn’t bear the thought of returning empty handed. His cries echoed through the trees. That was when… the creature found him. And it said, _‘Hello there, I see you are upset.’_ ”

Jason furrowed his brow. Cheryl’s eyes grow wide.

“And the Merchant looked up and with a trembling voice he asked _, ‘Who are you?’_ The creature’s expression broke into a large smile, and said _‘You may call me the Sugarman. How may I be of service to you?’_ The Merchant expressed his laments to the Sugarman, _‘Oh, how I am under so much pressure to bring the best of wares to my town! Oh, how I struggle to feed my family!’_ The Sugarman let out a thunderous laughter that shook the ground and rustled the trees. He then gestured to the big bag slumped over his shoulder and said _, ‘I have just the thing you need, friend.’_ He pulled a goblet from his bag, and handed it over. The poor Merchant asked about the contents of the goblet, but the Sugarman simply urged him to try it, and so he did.”

“What was in it?” Cheryl asks,

“What do you think?” Penelope replies softly.

“Sugar,” Jason answers.

“And so, the Merchant brought the goblet to his lips, and it was the sweetest, most decadent sugar the Merchant had ever tasted. He saw and tasted colors and felt new sensations and felt the warmth of the sunshine in his heart. The Sugarman smiled as the Merchant danced about the forest like an imp. Everything would be going according to the Sugarman’s plan. Once the Merchant settled down from his high, The Sugarman propositioned him, _‘What do you say – I give you ten goblets of my sugar to sell in your town? If you sell all ten, I will give you a hundred more. If you sell those, I will give you a thousand more. And you offer me a small percentage of what you earn in return. You will be the wealthiest, most beloved Merchant across the lands.’”_

“I wouldn’t do it,” Jason replies.

“Me neither,” Cheryl agrees.

Penelope’s breath catches in her throat, but she carries on.

“The Merchant saw no downside to what he was told, and accepted the offer gratefully. He returned to the town with ten goblets of sugar. And almost immediately, he sold them all. How the buyers expressed such joy. Oh, how they delighted in it. The Sugarman sent him a hundred more goblets full of the precious powder, and it did not take long for the Merchant to sell those too. The Merchant began to provide for the town and his family, once more. The Merchant’s wife asked him where he found the sugar, and he simply answered that he crafted it himself in the barn. And she believed him. He did all in his power to capitalize off his little secret. The Merchant’s children once more, went to bed with warm, full bellies. The Merchant’s wife once more, wore the prettiest of jewels and gowns. And the Merchant was happy, and the Sugarman was satisfied with his work. Until he wasn’t. You see, the Merchant was so eager to provide again, he did not think of how too much sugar makes people sick. So, as time passed, the townspeople began to fall ill. They realized they simply had too much of the Merchant’s sickly-sweet sugar, so they saw the Merchant less-and-less, which left him with rooms full of sugar and nothing to offer the Sugarman in return. And that is when the Sugarman decided to pay a visit to the Merchant’s home.”

“Oh, I don’t like this, Mommy,” Jason whispers.

“On a miserably grey day such as this… a little boy and a little girl were playing about the grand estate they lived on when the Sugarman payed a visit. The children stopped in their tracks, in awe of this great creature that towered over them. This great creature, that made the hair on the back of their neck stand. The Sugarman asked _, ‘Is your father the Merchant?’_ The children nodded. The Sugarman’s face broke into a large grin.

And as if by instinct, as the Merchant’s wife was tending to her herbs and flowers, she knew someone was trespassing. She ran out of her greenhouse to check on the children, and they were nowhere to be seen, but a great creature approached her, a creature that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand. With a trembling voice, she asked _‘Who are you?’_ The Sugarman introduced himself, _‘I am the creature your husband is indebted to.’_ And her eyes grew wide with fearful realization, and with a trembling voice she asked, _‘What have you done with my children?’_ And the Sugarman smiled, _‘Didn’t your husband tell you? The price of my services will always come at the cost of love. It is the only force strong enough to craft my sweet, sweet sugar. And your children, they were full of pure love.’_

And the Merchant’s wife begged for the Sugarman to take her instead, but it was too late. Her love was no longer pure. No, her love was from a place of mourning, and so he would not take her. And with that, the Sugarman vanished. The Merchant’s wife was heartbroken, and he found her crying. He asked her why she was so upset. She asked why he lied to her about the sugar. She started to walk away from the estate, but stopped in her tracks when she realized she had nowhere else to go. So, she shut herself away in her greenhouse for the rest of her life, mourning the loss of her children. The Merchant shut himself away in the barn, filled to the brim with regret and agony and shame. And everyone else throughout the land was warned of the tale of the Sugarman.”

Penelope realizes how long she’s been speaking, and turns to her children. There are tears in their eyes, and she aches knowing this is her doing.

“Is Daddy meeting the Sugarman?” Cheryl asks.

Penelope fights herself to keep a neutral expression.

“Mommy, please do not let him take us away!” Jason cries.

He squishes Cheryl as he reaches for their mother. They elbow each other as they try to clamber on to her. Penelope shifts between them. Jason buries his face in the crook of her arm, Cheryl wraps herself tightly around her mother’s waist.

“Mommy, that story stinks,” Cheryl whimpers.

“I am sorry,” Penelope replies.

“Please do not let him take us away,” Jason sobs, his little fingers tangle in her hair.

“Why is Daddy meeting him? Does Daddy not know?” Cheryl asks.

“Please do not let him take us away.”

“I would never. Daddy – he would never. Our love for you is sweeter and stronger than anything the Sugarman could concoct, my darlings.”

At this point, her voice is cracked. Penelope knows there will be consequences, but it does not matter now. She planted the seed of fear, and she will tend to its growth so long as it protects them from any desire to know more of the family business. She closes her eyes, and lets herself slip into darkness that is better than the stories she tells herself.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This is the first time I've ever attempted to write mythos, so feedback is appreciated.


End file.
